


What Could Be

by prettyapathetic



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyapathetic/pseuds/prettyapathetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson does some contemplating about their lives and where they are now. Set currently so well after the finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Could Be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Positively House/Wilson Slash Challenge over on Livejournal. Just a bunch of awesome people trying to combat homophobic trolls in a positive way.

James Wilson felt better than he had possibly ever in his entire life. He knew that a major reason for that was likely due to being cancer free for almost four years. When he and House had first driven away from their lives in New Jersey, away from Princeton-Plainsboro and the jobs they’d spent their lives stressing over, he had been convinced that he had six months to live, at best. Now though, now that all seemed like a distant dream, a distant nightmare.

It wasn’t very often that he contemplated their life from before, but some days, like this day, as Wilson lay by the pool in the Caribbean sun (with a generous coating of SPF 50, of course), sipping a drink and watching House swim laps, that he couldn’t help but think about how much had changed.

There had been a time, not really all that long ago, where Wilson would never have believed that House could ever not be a doctor, forget ever being relaxed. At least not without the help of some vicodin and a stiff scotch. He had never been so happy to be proven wrong.

House still had a drink now and then, but Wilson couldn’t remember the last time he saw him drunk, and he was sure it was before they had left. As for any painkillers, they didn’t have anything in their modest, ground floor condo stronger than some Tylenol.

It wasn’t as though House had completely changed either, and Wilson was more than thankful for that. He was still gruff and mean and sarcastic and basically everything that Wilson ever loved about him. He’d always loved the conflict they had, how they teased each other and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Sometimes he could do without any more practical jokes, but he’ll take what he can get.

Letting his thoughts drift a bit, he watched as House continued to swim. It was a miracle how just a little bit of exercise really made all the difference. He still needed a cane, but somehow Wilson thought that even just a couple of laps during the day seemed to ease House’s mind. He used to worry, more than he’d like to admit, that House would get bored without another mystery to solve, but so far nothing had come of it. Wilson suspected it had something to do with the journal House was keeping that Wilson secretly believed was Sherlock Holmes fanfiction.

House swam up to the edge of the pool and hung onto the deck by his arms, giving Wilson a curious look and a crooked smirk. “What are you thinking about?” House asked him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” he replied, his attempt to sound innocent failing miserably.

House’s smirk widened as he got out of the pool and limped over to Wilson, leaning down to give him a heated kiss. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.” His tone was mischievous as he turned to head back into their home.

Wilson knew he was in big trouble, and he’d never been happier.


End file.
